‘They do pretty nearly all that they oughtn’t to do,’ said Mrs Pipkin.  John Crumb raised one of his fists, brought it down heavily on the palm of his other hand, and then sat silent for awhile.

‘I never knowed as she was fond o’ dancing,’ he said.  ’I’d a had dancing for her down at Bungay,—­just as ready as anything.  D’ye think, ma’am, it’s the dancing she’s after, or the baro-nite?’ This was another appeal to Mrs Hurtle.

‘I suppose they go together,’ said the lady.

Then there was another long pause, at the end of which poor John Crumb burst out with some violence.  ’Domn him!  Domn him!  What ’ad I ever dun to...